


fake it 'til you make it

by iamyouropus (adieu_sweetamaryllis)



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Faking It AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5296940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adieu_sweetamaryllis/pseuds/iamyouropus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asami has a lot of things going for her. She’s smart, she’s charming, and she’s not too hard on the eyes. But an actress, she is not. Asami wears her heart on her sleeve; she has never been able to hide her emotions well. And she sure as hell can’t fake them well, either — especially not the kind of standing-ovation performance she and Korra had just given.</p><p>There’s only one explanation in Asami’s mind, and she has all the proof she needs in her sweaty palms and racing heart. Asami is a smart girl, and this is a pretty easy puzzle. </p><p>She isn’t faking it. She has a crush on her best friend. And she's in real trouble. </p><p>Korrasami, Faking It style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fake it 'til you make it

Asami wakes up to her phone ringing. She slaps her hands over her eyes when she cracks them open, offended by the bright light shining through her slanted blinds. She always forgets to close the damn things, and now she’s paying the price.   
  
Her eyes find the clock before she reaches for her phone. 7:28 — just two minutes before her alarm is set to ring. She groans, tempted to just press the off button because there is nothing she hates more than being woken up right before her alarm is about to go off, but she recognizes the ringtone.  
  
“Do you know what time it is?” she says, voice cracking as she speaks for the first time that morning. She’s going to need a hot cup of coffee before it loses its rasp and becomes something coherent, but Korra is used to the way her speech is garbled for the first hour of every day.   
  
“It’s seven-thirty. Good morning sleepy head,” Korra sing-songs on the other side of the line. Asami rolls her eyes, wants to tell her no, _not quite_ seven-thirty, but she keeps quiet. Korra is too much of a morning person to pick a fight with — and when she gets brought down, she gets brought down _hard_. “What are you wearing?”  
  
Asami frowns. “Uh— basketball shorts and a tank-top?”  
  
“What?” Korra’s voice shouts out of her phone. “Oh god, not right _now_  — to school, what are you wearing?”  
  
“Oh.” Asami looks at her closet, where more things are gathered on the floor than on the hangers. “You know, I hadn’t really thought about it.”   
  
“ _Asami_ ,” Korra groans, and Asami throws the blankets off of her legs. She pulls a shirt out of the closet, one of the ones that _had_ been hung on the hangers, and straightens it out.   
  
“How about my red Converse shirt?”   
  
“Ugh, no, you wore that first day last year.”  
  
“I _did?!”_  
  
“Yes. Next.”   
  
“How do you keep track of these things?” she mutters, but she doesn’t expect a response. She pushes aside something with lace on the chest and sleeves that her father must’ve bought for her. _Yuck_. “I don’t know, Korra, not much of a selection here. Can I just wear a t-shirt?”   
  
“No. We’re sophomores now. We need to look good. We need more… pizzaz!”   
  
“Pizzaz?” Asami deadpans back at her.    
  
There’s a beat of silence over the line. “You know what I mean,” Korra sighs.   
  
Asami grimaces when her eyes find something with blue sequins on it, buried in the corner of her closet. “Afraid not.”   
  
“Wear something with color, okay? And not a button-up, those are too… formal.”   
  
“What’s wrong with looking nice?”Asami asks. Her style wasn’t _formal_ , necessarily, her father just preferred that she dressed appropriately for a businessman’s daughter. And by preferred, she meant he would rarely let her leave the house in anything but.   
  
“You always look nice,” Korra says. Asami flushes, suddenly very happy this conversation is taking place over the phone and Korra can’t see her bright cheeks. She’s so easily flustered, nowadays. “Today you have to try to look… cool.”   
  
“Right. Cool.”  
  
They hang up a few minutes later. Asami finds a green denim jacket that looks pretty nice with a cami under it.   
  
She’s waiting in the kitchen for Korra to pick her up when her dad comes down the stairs.  
  
“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asks, ever-present frown somehow deeper in the mornings. Asami fidgets under his gaze, straightening her shoulders. 

“Korra said I needed more pizzaz,” she explains.  
  
His eyebrows shoot up. “Pizzaz?”  
  
Korra honks from the driveway, and Asami ducks out before her father has time to question her further.  
  
//  
  
Korra spends the drive rehearsing the story of what she did that summer — a cruise to the Bahamas, went to New York and saw a few shows on Broadway and _hey_ , even had time to star in the local community theater’s musical while she was at it.   
  
Only one of those had actually happened.   
  
Asami isn’t nervous like Korra is. She’s always blended into the background. It isn't hard to fit in at their high school. It is a pretty cool place, full of hippies, just like the rest of the town. Republic City is a blue oasis in the red sea of Texas. As long as you didn’t make waves, you’d be fine.   
  
They’ve got a few minutes before the first bell rings, so they sit on a bench outside and wait. Asami pulls out a granola bar from her bag.   
  
“ _Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!_ ” she hears her step-mom’s peppy voice ring in her head. She considers throwing away the bar to spite the woman, but she _does_ really like this brand, and she is a little hungry.   
  
“Since when do you eat breakfast?” Korra asks, looking at the chocolate chunk oatmeal bar as Asami takes a big bite.   
  
Crumbs cling to the side of her mouth. She brushes them away before speaking. “Since the step-monster started making me.”   
  
“And since when did you start listening to her?” Korra asks, eyebrows raised.   
  
“Since she started buying really yummy granola bars.”   
  
“You’re a simple girl, Asami,” Korra says, laughing.  
  
“All I really want is food,” she agrees.   
  
Korra sighs, silent for a moment. “All _I_ really want to get us into Wu’s party tomorrow,” Korra pouts.   
  
Asami frowns.  _This again?_ Korra had been talking about it for the last two weeks. This kid named Wu that she doesn’t think she’s ever even _met_  apparently throws some super-cool party every year on the first day of school. Korra has her heart set on going, but Asami can’t imagine spending a night with the idiots who go to their school, never mind when those idiots are _drunk._  
  
Asami rolls her eyes. “I can’t imagine why.”  
  
She eyes the courtyard in front of her, taking in the sights and sounds of Republic City High. Her eyes linger a second too long on a couple practically procreating under a tree, and she suddenly loses her appetite, crumpling the remained of the granola bar back into its wrapper.   
  
“Come on, Asami. High school is supposed to be the time of our lives, and we’re not even _living_  it. And no, Netflix doesn’t count, no matter how vicariously you say you lived through Jessica Jones last week,” she says holding up a finger to shush her best friend before the words are even out of her mouth.  
  
Asami shakes her head. “That’s not true. We went to that party last month!”  
  
“Okay, for one thing it was an ice cream social for the honor society, so that doesn’t even count, and secondly, you’re lactose intolerant!” Korra crosses her arms, glaring at Asami. Asami raises her eyebrows, looking incredulous as to what that has to do with anything and Korra groans, throwing her head back in exasperation. “We didn’t even get to eat any ice cream!”  
  
Asami sighs. “It’s not going to be like it is in the movies, Korra. We’re not the cute girls who fall in love with the football stars with dark pasts and become the most popular kids in school.”   
  
“I know that,” Korra says. “I just… want some friends, you know?”

“What, I’m not enough?” Asami teases, hating how pathetic she sounds. But she doesn’t really understand Korra’s point of view here. She’s never really wanted much outside of her friendship with Korra. Hanging out with other people was more of a burden than anything else. Korra had always seemed like she felt the same way, but maybe…   
  
“It’s not that,” Korra says, squeezing her hand. “You know it’s not. I just want to have like, you know. The _experience.”_  
  
Korra says the word like its magical and Asami can’t help but smile. “Yeah, I guess I get it.”   
  
“All right, break it up ladies,” a loud voice booms, making Asami and Korra jump apart. “You’re sitting in my light.”  
  
Asami looks up, bristling when she sees who it is. _Kuvira_. Her evil step-mother’s evil daughter, making her Asami’s evil step-sister. God, she wishes she could go back in time and stop her father from marrying that woman just so she could tell Kuvira where she could shove that snarky smirk once and for all — but no, they were family. And the Sato family could not be seen arguing in public. Her father would kill her.   
  
“What, the sun is your light?” She doesn’t bother to look at Kuvira when she speaks. “You’ll just have to find somewhere else to sit.”   
  
Kuvira doesn’t back down. “If this were any other school, you’d be dead meat right now. But since we’re in this hippy-dippy zero-tolerance land, somehow your kind are… acceptable.” She sneers at the two of them, and Asami pulls her hand off of Korra’s leg.  “Just know that I’m watching you.”  
  
“Whatever. I know where you sleep,” Asami says, shrugging.   
  
Kuvira’s lip curls. “How _dare_ you threaten me in my own home.” Her fist clenches, and Asami gulps. She wasn’t aware of how easy the girl’s anger issues were to trigger, but now that she had she couldn’t very well back down.  
  
She straightens her back. “It was my home first,” she retorts.  
  
Kuvira growls. “You’ve got five seconds to hop back in your canoe and paddle on back to the isle of Lesbos so I can get my vitamin D.”   
  
“Wow, is that a real place?” a voice chimes in from behind Asami. She turns to see a short younger boy, flanked by a taller upperclassman with dark hair and strong brows. “If so, can we go?”   
  
“I don’t know if they’d accept _our kind,”_ the other boy jokes.   
  
“Oh great, there’s _more_ of you?” Kuvira sighs. “What is wrong with this school? Is there something in the water?”   
  
“Oh, wow, bullying the gays,” the shorter one says. “That reeks of the late 90’s.”   
  
Eyebrows shrugs. “Maybe it’s some sort of performance art piece? We applaud your commitment,” he nods at Kuvira.  
  
Kuvira lets out a frustrated noise. “God damnit. Fine, keep the damn bench. I don’t want your cooties anyway.”  
  
Asami can’t help but laugh as she walks away. She turns towards the two boys. “Thanks for the backup.”

“Anytime,” the tall dark and broody one said. “Sorry about that. I try not to take people like that personally. I’m Mako, by the way,” he says, flashing a charming smile at Korra.   
  
Korra’s grin is a little too tight where it sits on her face, and she waits just a moment to long to introduce herself. The silence is awkward, and Korra lets out an even more awkward laugh.  
  
“I’m Asami,” she chimes in, leaning forward. “And this is Korra. And I’m the one who should be apologizing for her — Kuvira's my new step-sister.”   
  
“Ouch,” the younger one says. “She lives with you? Sounds like _you_  need to escape. Tell you what, I’m throwing a party tonight. Why don’t the two of you come by?”   
  
Before they have a chance to respond, the boy is scribbling down his number and address on a piece of paper. He hands it to Korra.  
  
_Wu: (555) 598-1289, 24 Palace Street, Republic City_  
  
Korra’s eyes grow wide when she sees his name, but her mouth still remains clamped shut.  
  
How she expects to become popular when she can’t even speak in front of cute boys, Asami has no idea, but she’ll support her best friend in any endeavor.   
  
“We’ll see you there,” Asami says.   
  
“Yes!” Korra shouts a little too loudly. “We would love to come.”   
  
Wu grins. “And we’d just love to have you,” he assures them, his eyes flickering between the two of them.   
  
Mako smiles, his eyes lingering on Korra for a second longer. “See you later,” he says with a wave.   
  
“Bye,” Korra whispers to his retreating form. Asami groans.  
  
“Oh, god,” she said. “Snap out of it.”   
  
Korra turns to her suddenly. “Asami, that was _amazing!”_  
  
Asami startles. “What was?”   
  
“You! You stood up to Kuvira and then you got us invited to Wu’s party. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says, pulling Asami into an awkward bench-hug.   
  
The bell rings just as she’s pulling away. Korra grins at her as she stands.   
  
“I’ll see you at lunch. I’m so excited! You _have_ to help me decide what to wear. And you have to let me pick your outfit.”  
  
Asami groans as she stands. “If you don’t trust me enough to pick out my own outfit, why do you want my opinion on yours?”  
  
//  
  
The party isn’t fun.  
  
Asami wasn’t expecting it to be, but it’s way worse than she even imagined. There was like, five times as much awkward PDA as there was during lunch periods, and everyone was drunk. She’d gotten a drink spilled on her already, and they’d only been here for fifteen minutes.   
  
She tears at the napkin in her lap, still wet from trying to soak the jack and coke from the overalls Korra had picked out for her.   
  
Korra senses how uncomfortable she is, and nudges her. “Drinks?” she suggests.  
  
Asami nods, because _hey_ , it’s not going to get much worse than this. Maybe awkward could be fun if there was a little liquor involved. Like the movies, right?   
  
But Korra is taking way too long, and it’s just getting louder and louder by the minute in Wu’s living room. Another couple has taken up residency on the couch, and she’s pretty sure if she stays here much longer she’s going to get some sort of bodily fluid on her.  
  
She shoots Korra a text as she finds the sliding glass door. There’s a patio outside, and a few chairs, so she tells Korra to meet her there and takes a seat.   
  
She’s happy for a moment that there is no one else out there. It’s quiet, and removed from the party, the neighbors, the street. She feels her nerves finally starting to settle. That is, until Wu pops outside, grinning when he sees her sitting on the wicker bench.   
  
“Hey there!” he shouts. “Having fun?”  
  
Asami wonders if he’s serious, because she’s sitting outside, alone, pretty clearly miserable, but she figures he’s probably had a little much to drink at this point. “Great party,” she responds.   
  
He smiles, waiting for her to say something else. She doesn’t want to.  After an awkward moment, she sighs. “Listen, my friend is just getting us some drinks. She’ll be back in a second.”   
  
Wu snorts. “Oh your _friend_ , huh?”   
  
Asami blinks. “What?”   
  
“You don’t have to pull that shit with me, sister,” he says, parking himself on the bench next to her. “I know a fellow gay when I see one and honey you are queerer than a three dollar bill.”  
  
Asami splutters. “Listen — Korra and I, we’re—”   
  
He cuts her off. “I know, I know. I was in the closet too, once. But I want you to know, you’re safe here. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”  
  
She swallows. “I’m not ashamed of anything,” she says, standing. “Listen, Korra’s been gone a while, I’m going to go check on her.”   
  
She walks away as quickly as she can, not turning around to see if Wu is watching her. 

She wasn’t _gay_. Korra was her best friend, sure, and she loved her more than anything, of course, but that didn’t mean that she was in love with the girl. She just had taken a place in her heart that no one else would be able to fill. Asami didn’t have many friends, so Korra just kind of got all of her love. But it wasn’t romantic.   
  
Asami finds Korra sitting next to Wu’s friend, Mako, and she freezes for a second. He’s smiling at her, saying something with a laugh that Korra seems to find shocking. Asami doesn’t want to wait anymore, stepping forward and grabbing Korra’s shoulder.  
  
“Come on,” she says. “We’re leaving.”   
  
Korra doesn’t hesitate. She lets Asami tug her for a few feet before she leans in and whispers. “Hey, did you know Mako thought we were _lesbians?”_  
  
Asami shakes her head. “Who cares. Let’s just go home, make hot cocoa and see what episode of Catfish is on.”   
  
Korra is silent the rest of the way to the door, which they _almost_  make it to when suddenly the room falls quiet.   
  
“Attention everyone!” Wu’s voice rings out throughout the room. Asami turns around with a grimace, not surprised when she sees Wu standing on the table. _Drama queen._  
  
“Two friends of ours are scared tonight. They’re hiding in a teeny, tiny, dark, little closet afraid to come out, afraid we’ll reject them,” he shouts. The room is filled with drunken gasps.  “Here at Republic City High, we do things differently.” The room cheers in response, and Asami tries not to gag.  “We accept everyone.”  
  
Wu’s eyes roam the room until they land on Asami. Her jaw drops, suddenly aware that what line he’s about to cross. He grins, ignoring when she shakes her head furiously at him.   
  
“But how do we prove to them that were not their typical high school?” he asks, jumping down from his table. The crowd parts as he makes his way towards Korra and Asami, their hands still clasped together from their attempted escape. Asami tries to step back, but Korra is frozen in place. “That we accept them.” Wu reaches down and grabs their conjoined hands.  “That they’re safe.”  
  
He flashes them a big smile before spinning to face the rest of the room, holding their hands high. “There’s only one way that I can think of. Let’s elcet them homecoming queens!”    
  
The room breaks out into a roar of drunken excitedness. Asami shoots a look at Korra, who is too focused on the crowd, awestruck at all the people around them cheering them on.   
  
“All hail the queens!” Wu shouts, and the rest of the room takes up the chant.   
  
 Korra’s eyes meet hers now, and she flashes Asami a grin that unsettles her somewhere deep in her chest. She knows that look in Korra’s eye, the mischievous glint that meant that the girl was up to no good.  
  
Korra has a plan, and Asami is not sure she’s going to like it.   
  
//  
  
“Please?”  
  
“No.”

“Come _on,_ Asami, it won’t be that bad.”   
  
“There’s a reason you’re the one on stage and I’m the one in the audience. I can’t act, Korra. This isn’t going to work.”  
  
She can practically hear Korra shaking her head over the phone. “They all already believe it. Asami, please? Pretty please with sugar on top? Be my girlfriend.”   
  
Asami sighs. “What makes you think this is a good idea?”   
  
“Well, people thought we were lesbians for one day and we were invited to the biggest party of the year and nominated for homecoming queens.”   
  
Asami pauses. “Good point.”  
  
She can practically hear Korra’s grin over the phone. “Let’s give it a try tomorrow and if it doesn’t work, we don’t have to tell anyone. We won’t put it on Facebook or anything,” Korra assures her.   
  
“Fine,” she sighs. “We’ll take it for a test run.”   
  
Asami moves the speaker away from her ear, knowing what’s coming next.  
  
“Oh _yes_ , thank you, thank you, thank you! You won’t regret this, you’ll see. We will _rule_ this school.”  
  
Asami laughs, nervously. “Yeah, we'll see.”  
  
//    
  
Korra picks her up the next morning with a big grin on her face.   
  
“Good morning, girlfriend,” she says, waggling her eyebrows at Asami as she climbs into the front seat.   
  
“Don’t call me that or people will know you’re faking it,” Asami chides.  
  
Korra huffs. “Fine. Good morning... baby? Honey? Sugar lips?”  
  
Asami laughs. “Call me sugar lips and I’m dumping you.”   
  
“As if you’d dump me,” Korra scoffs.   
  
“Oh please. I'd dump you over text.”  
  
“You wouldn’t dare!”   
  
Asami pulls her phone out of her pocket, holding it up where Korra can see. “Watch me.”   
  
“Fine, but you have to wait until the end of the day. You promised me a test run!”   
  
Asami swallows nervously. “About that. What exactly does that… entail?”  
  
Korra shrugs. “I don’t know, hold my hand? Maybe take a selfie with me during lunch?”  
  
Asami lets out a long breath, relief washing over her. She had been dreading this since she woke up, was so nervous that Korra would want her to really sell it. She’s not a great actress, and the idea of doing that sort of thing with her best friend puts an uneasy feeling in her stomach.  
  
“I can do that.”   
  
//

Asami is not prepared for what awaits them at the school.   
  
They’ve barely stepped foot on campus before someone is waving to them. Another few feet and a guy wearing a soccer jersey shouts that he’s voting for them.   
  
Asami flashes him a thumbs up, suddenly aware of how naive their plan had been. They’d been outed at a _Wu_ party. Sure, there hadn’t been _that_  many people there but they were the right kind of people to brew up a gossip storm. There was no way their relationship was going to be anything near a secret.  
  
The bulletin board is the first big sign that things are not going to go her way today. The front of it is plastered with posters with her face on it, encircled in a heart next to Korra’s.   
  
Korra stops short when she sees them.  
  
“Wow,” Asami says, her voice falling just a little short of enthusiastic. “They've had posters made?”   
  
“You bet we did!” she hears Wu say from behind her just before his hand claps down against her shoulder.   
  
“Wow, Wu!” Korra says, suddenly finding her voice. “This is _great!_ We should name you our campaign manager.”  
  
He waves her off. “Already done.”  
  
He guides them forward until they see the booth at the entrance. “Here, we’re handing out pins and flyers, and collecting pledges to vote for you.”  
  
“Hi, Korra!” a girl says as she walks away from the booth. “You have my vote!”

“Thanks, Marcy!” Korra shouts. She turns to Asami in a whisper. “I haven’t spoken to her since sixth grade.”  
  
Wu grins. “You two are more popular than you realize. Republic City has been starving for a same-sex power couple, and you two? _So_ hot right now.”  
  
Asami shoots Korra a wary look, but Korra is beaming at the boy. “We are?!”   
  
“ Yep. As a matter of fact, the two of you have a photoshoot scheduled during lunch, and an interview right after school.” Asami moves to protest but Wu holds up a finger. “We’ll discuss more during chemistry. First bell already rang and Mr. Sacca threatened detention last time I told him I was ‘fashionably late.'”   
  
Wu is on his way into the school before Asami even processes what he’s saying; she’s still stuck on the photoshoot and interview coming up later.   
  
  
//  
  
The photoshoot goes well. Luckily, there’s some school rule about not showing students kissing in the school paper that she hopes didn’t originate out of necessity.   
  
It’s not much worse than the selfies that Korra makes her pose for on a near-daily basis, so she doesn’t mind.   
  
By the time the bell rings Asami is feeling a lot better about the whole fake-dating thing. She can do this. It’s not _that_ much acting; she and Korra have a very close friendship to begin with. What’s a little hand holding?   
  
Korra kisses her on the cheek when she walks her to math after chemistry and Wu is somehow there to snap a picture for Instagram. By the time her teacher is finished teaching them the slope intercept formula, it already has more than thirty likes.   
  
“We’ve been best friends for ages,” she explains to the reporter girl, Melissa, as they make their way towards the spot they’d agreed to do the interview at. Korra has ninth period in the south wing, so she’d be a few minutes late.   
  
“Wow,” the girls says, taking note in her journal. Asami frowns — the interview hadn’t even begun yet and her words were already being recorded.  A rush of nerves flow through her and she speeds up her stride towards the courtyard. She hopes that Korra isn’t going to be too late— she can’t do this without her.   
  
“What changed?” the girl asks, and Asami swallows.  
  
“Oh, you know, one day we just woke up and it clicked. We realized we were in love,” she says, laying it on thick. Melissa nods, taking note.  
  
They turn the corner to the courtyard just as Melissa begins to ask another question. Asami stops short. Melissa crashes into her back with an “oof” before stepping around to see what had halted Asami in her tracks.   
  
It’s Korra. Her arms are wound around Mako’s neck, stark against his red scarf. And they’re kissing.  
  
“Woah,” the reporter says, and Asami breaks from her trance. She tears her eyes away from Korra and the boy, her face flushing.   
  
“Uh— yeah, that’s just... You know what? We have an open relationship. And so we’ll just…” Asami glances back at Korra, who is still attached to Mako’s mouth. She resists the urge to make a gagging noise. “Can we reschedule?”   
  
The girls frowns, looking clearly a little disturbed. “If you say so,” she says. “Have Wu set it up.”   
  
Asami nods, walking quickly in the opposite direction as soon as the words are out of her mouth. She tries not to look too upset, because for some odd reason she still wants this whole “act” to work, but she can’t help it.  
  
This was all Korra’s idea, and now she’s the one ruining it only hours after they’d started. Asami huffs angrily as she walks, unsure how to begin to process all of this.   
  
When she gets to the parking lot her phone dings.   
  
It’s from Korra.   
  
_Where are you? It’s interview time!_  
  
She doesn’t answer.   
  
Asami looks around the parking lot for a moment before frowning.   
  
_Shit, Korra drove me this morning_ , she realizes. She sits on the curb and pulls out her phone.  
  
Her father’s at work. Everyone who could have given her a ride has left in the fifteen minutes since school has ended.   
  
She’s just about to give up and walk home when a shadow comes over her.   
  
“Isn’t there an after-school special you’re missing?”  
  
Asami doesn’t have to look up to know that it’s Kuvira. She almost snaps back at her when she notices the keys dangling from her hands.  
  
Asami smiles. “Yes, as a matter of fact. Mind giving me a lift home?”  
  
Kuvira doesn’t return Asami’s smile. Instead, she glares at her for a moment before starting to walk away. “Fine,” she calls behind her. “But just because my mom would kill me if I left you here.”   
  
They make their way to Kuvira’s car in silence. They sit in her car in silence. They drive halfway home in silence, when Kuvira finally breaks it.   
  
“What are you still doing at school, anyway?” she asks.  
  
“I had an… interview.” Asami feels anger flare up in her chest again at the memory of Korra and Mako making out behind the school.   
  
“Who would want to hire you?!”   
  
Asami rolls her eyes. “Not for a job. For the school paper.” She almost smacks herself on the forehead when she realizes what she’s just brought up.  
  
“That’s right. You’re running for homecoming queen.”   
  
Asami doesn’t say anything, just fixes her gaze out the window, hoping Kuvira will let the subject drop. She doesn’t.  
  
“So you’re actually gay?”  
  
Asami sighs, realizing that she isn’t going to get out of this as long as she’s in Kuvira’s car. She shrugs. “It’s complicated,” comes out of her mouth. She doesn’t know why she chose that particular label — it wouldn’t be a stretch to say she was a lesbian, since she was already lying about her sexuality by pretending to date her best friend.  
  
Kuvira snorts. “Okay then.” She waits a second. “Does your dad know? My mom?”  
  
Asami turns, eyes wide. “No. And they can’t find out.” She hadn’t really considered that particular detail. Her father was far from liberal, and judging by Kuvira’s attitude, her mother wouldn’t be much better.   
  
They pull into their driveway. Kuvira looks at her for a long moment before nodding. “Fine. But you owe me.”  
  
//  
  
Asami wonders how long it’ll be before Korra gets concerned that she’s not answering her texts. She had resorted to turning off her phone and putting it in her desk after the fourth missed call.   
  
It’s just before dinner when there’s a knock on her door.   
  
“Asami?” It’s Korra, of course, and Asami considers for a moment pretending not to be there. “Your step-mom let me in. She said you were doing homework?” she adds. 

“She would,” Asami mutters under her breath.   
  
“Wu told me about the reporter and what she… saw. Can we please just talk about this?”   
  
Asami groans, moving to open the door. She never had a strong resolve when it came to Korra. “Fine,” she calls.   
  
Korra hugs her as soon as the door is open.   
  
“I’m sorry that I screwed everything up,” she says. She pulls away, and Asami can see the distress on her face. “He’s just so cute, and you know part of the whole reason we were doing this was so we could get cute boyfriends.”   
  
Asami frowns. “I thought you wanted to be popular. Isn’t _that_ the reason we’re doing this whole fake girlfriend thing?”  
  
“I do! I do.” Korra nods enthusiastically. “And we will be. I promise. I won’t see Mako anymore. From here on out, I will be a loyal girlfriend.” She pauses, looking down. “That is, if you’ll still have me.”   
  
Korra’s eyes are big and blue, and Asami can’t resist. She sighs. “I guess… I didn’t really want to do the interview anyway.”   
  
Korra nudges her. “See?”   
  
Asami frowns. “I’m still mad at you. No more making out with boys on school grounds. I can’t be seen as someone who just let’s her girlfriend _cheat_  on her in public. I can’t let my reputation suffer because of a fake relationship!”   
  
“Since when do you care about your reputation?” Korra laughs. “Hey! That’s the first time you’ve called me your girlfriend.”   
  
Asami rolls her eyes before pulling Korra back in for another hug.   
  
She doesn’t see Kuvira standing in the hallway with a smirk on her face.   
  
//  
  
Asami regrets it all when she shows up the next day. There’s a pep-rally this afternoon, and Wu texted them last night to let them know they were expected to announce their plans to run.   
  
The day goes just as well as yesterday, for the most part. Asami tightens her hand in Korra’s when they pass Mako in the hallway, but Korra only smiles at him, and Asami is happy with that.   
  
“I’ve written your speech,” Wu says when they see him in chemistry. He hands them note cards filled with handwriting.  
  
Asami scrunches her nose. “ _This coronation will finally end my long journey for acceptance after a life in the closet?_ Wu, I’m not saying any of this.”   
  
Korra pouts. “Come on, Asami. It’s not so bad.” She glances at her card and frowns. “Do I have to call her my bae?” she asks, turning to Wu. He nods, seriously, and she sighs before turning back to Asami. “Look, this way you have a script. It’s barely acting, you don’t have to make anything up.”  
  
Asami picks up another card, scanning the content before rolling her eyes before nodding. “Ugh. Fine. But you’re buying me pizza afterwards. And we’re getting garlic knots.”   
  
//  
  
It's minutes before the announcement, Korra is late again, and Asami is about to bail just when she shows up.   
  
“Sorry, sorry, stayed after to talk to a teacher. No boys,” she promises with a quick smile.  
  
Asami returns it briefly before continuing her pacing. They’re set to go on stage any second and tell the whole school that they’re running for homecoming royalty, and Asami is quickly forgetting all the reasons why she would ever want to do that.   
  
She can hear the other candidates giving their speeches in the gym. Whoever it is sounds loud and angry and oddly familiar, but Asami isn’t paying much attention. She’s too nervous.  
  
Korra grabs her hand. “I’ll do most of the talking, if you want,” she says, squeezing it. “You just have to say like two sentences.”   
  
Asami nods, letting out a long breath.   
  
“Stage fright?” Korra suggests with a grin.   
  
“Not all of us can be talented performers,” Asami shoots back.  
  
Just then, she hears the principal announce their names.   
  
“And now we’ll hear from Republic City’s very first same-gendered candidates for homecoming royalty, Asami and Korra!”   
  
Korra is pulling her in before their names are even out of the principal’s mouth.   
  
Kuvira is standing on the stage, nearest to the microphone and Asami almost trips. She _knew_  the voice giving that speech had sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. Her step-sister is wearing a sinister smile, her hand clasped in her boyfriend’s. Bataar, Asami thinks his name is, some basketball player who was just popular enough for Kuvira to date and definitely popular enough to run for homecoming king.  
  
Kuvira’s smile drops when the crowd bursts out into applause, and then a standing ovation as the girls start to climb on stage.   
  
The crowd is still cheering by the time they reach the microphone, and they don’t seem to be planning to stop any time soon.   
  
Korra steps up to the mic. “Thank you —” is barely out of her mouth before the crowd drowns her out. After another few seconds Korra just shrugs, throwing her arms into the air and the crowd errupts even louder.  
  
_Who needs a speech?_ Asami thinks. She grins and waves, stepping up next to Korra.  
  
“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Asami hears just before Kuvira steps forward to where Korra stands at the microphone, shoving her aside and into Asami’s arms.   
  
“Oh please, people,” Kuvira spits into the microphone. “They’re duping all of you. They just want to be popular, they're not even gay!” The crowd falls quiet as she continues. “They’re faking it, they made the whole thing up, I heard them scheming last night.”   
  
Korra tenses next to her, her hand suddenly iron gripped against Asami’s as a few seconds pass in complete silence.    
  
“Korra, Asami is this true?” the principal turns towards them with a frown on her face.   
  
Korra's eyes go wide, her mind short circuiting. Her shoulders fall, and Asami sees the defeat sink in. Asami quickly scans the crowd, sees Wu's panicked face and Mako's apparent confusion.  
  
From homecoming queens to the laughing stocks — Asami can see the school paper headline now, complete with the pictures of Korra and Asami from the photo shoot.  
  
“Uh— you see, we just,” Korra starts, but Asami steps in front of her. Korra looks at her, confused, but Asami shakes it off.   
  
“Kuvira is just jealous,” she says, shooting a glare at her new step-sister. The crowd falls completely silent, all eyes on them. Asami swallows. _Now or never. “_ If we were faking it, would I do this?”  
  
And with that she turns back to Korra, who is still looking at Kuvira, mouth agape as she struggles to find the right words to explain this all away. Asami slides her other hand up Korra’s arm, gripping at some of the fabric of her sleeve to tug her in close.  
  
Korra’s eyes snap to Asami’s, and for one second Asami can see the realization of what’s about to happen spread across her face. Their bodies touch first, colliding roughly as Asami closes the distance between them. Their mouths are still achingly distant as Korra’s eyes dart down to Asami’s lips, once, twice. It’s all the sign Asami needs. She brushes her nose against Korra’s as she leans in.   
  
Korra’s lips are parted against Asami's, and she can feel her fingers tighten against her sweater at the contact. Asami pauses, unsure of how far they should go in front of the _entire student body,_ but suddenly Korra’s lips are parting farther and she’s opening her mouth to Asami, pulling her into the kiss.   
  
Asami feels her heart hammer against her chest as Korra’s lips move against her own. She’s vaguely aware of a crowd cheering, although that might just be in her head.   
  
No, that's _definitely_ a crowd cheering.   
  
Korra doesn’t seem to notice them. She keeps her eyes closed, her fingers gently squeezing against the tops of Asami’s arms as she kisses her one after another, to the point when Asami isn’t sure she’s going to stop.  
  
When Korra finally pulls away, Asami suddenly becomes aware of how badly she doesn't want her to. Her eyes take a moment to refocus, her lips buzzing in a completely foreign way. Korra breaks into a grin as soon as she pulls away.  
  
“Woah,” she whispers, squeezing Asami’s side encouragingly. Asami snaps out of her stupor at this, suddenly aware not only of where she was and what she had just done and who with, but how weird it had felt.  
  
It was like no kiss she had ever had before. Instead of the soft press of someone’s lips against her own, a pleasant pressure that wasn’t all to exciting on its own, kissing Korra had made her shiver in every cell of her being.  
  
“All hail the queens!” the crowd begins to chant, probably led by Wu.   
  
Asami's lips are still tingling, her heart still racing, and she’s still having trouble hearing the crowd over the rush of blood in her ears.   
  
“Yeah, I know,” she says, a small laugh falling out of her mouth. The other girl’s grin widens even farther.  
  
_She must have felt it too._  
  
“Way to sell it!” Korra whispers, practically glowing.  
  
_Or not_.  
  
Reality comes crashing back down around Asami. She is standing in the middle of her high school gym, every student in the school watching her kiss her best friend, who she is pretending to date to become popular.   
  
Asami has a lot of things going for her. She’s smart, she’s charming, and she’s not too hard on the eyes. But an actress, she is not.   
  
Korra squeezes her hand before running turning to the crowd. Asami flashes her an uneasy grin, face still clearly stricken with her latest revelation.   
  
Because that’s just the thing. Asami wears her heart on her sleeve; she has never been able to hide her emotions well. And she sure as hell can’t fake them well, either — especially not the kind of standing-ovation performance she and Korra had just given.  
  
There’s only one explanation in Asami’s mind, and she has all the proof she needs in her sweaty palms and racing heart. Asami is a smart girl, and this is a pretty easy puzzle.  
  
She isn’t faking it. She has a crush on her best friend. And she's in real trouble.   


**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I'm doing starting ANOTHER new fic, but here we go anyway...
> 
> This is going to be loosely based on MTV's Faking It. You might have already noticed a few differences in this first chapter. I'll probably sort of follow the first few episodes and go off from there! 
> 
> If you'd like to follow me on Tumblr (@ aka-patsywalker), feel free!


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